A Change in Routine
by Anexie
Summary: Entre wants to try something new, regardless of what 72 has to say about it. Seventre. Smut.


They're making love, just like they normally do after a long day's work. It's a sort of routine, really; when it gets to the late hours of the evening, just when 72 is finishing off his paperwork, there will be a knock at the door, courtesy of a tired-looking Entre. It doesn't take long for them both to be in the mood for each other, and most of the time they don't even make it to 72's bedroom – or rather, _their _bedroom, as it had become.

And so 72 is on top of Entre, using one hand to prop himself up whilst the other entwines it's fingers with the younger man's. Entre's face is flushed, his lips parted to make way for shallow breaths; but the pace is steady and controlled. 72 loves having sex with Entre, loves the way they can instantly connect during intercourse in a way that would make soulmates jealous.

The entrepreneur's eyelids flutter as if he can't decide to have them open or closed, and for a moment they meet the other man's gaze in the dusk. 72 adores his partner right then; feels an unbearable surge of love for the man beneath him, and is filled with immense gratitude for the present moment. Entre, the most likeable and attractive man he has ever known, is his – even if in the future he might not be; but 72 tries not to think about that, and he simply doesn't _care_ right now anyway because all that matters is that the beautiful man beneath him is looking right into his eyes with love and desire etched into every crevice and line of his face.

The younger man takes a deep breath through his nose and exhales through his mouth, grinning a little in between the thrusts, because 72 is such a romantic at heart, and it would blow his mind if he knew what Entre sometimes thought about possible changes to their coitus. The entrepreneur reaches up a hand to cup the side of his mentor's face, pulling him down to close the distance between their lips. A familiar ghost of expensive tobacco settles on his tongue. Entre had tried cigars in the past, but had never quite found the appeal of inhaling the overwhelmingly strong smoke. However he had remedied this. A kiss from 72 had many perks – one of them being that Entre got to sample the rich and alluring taste of cigars without experiencing burning in his throat and lungs. He smiles again, into the kiss, and 72 pulls away from him and smiles back.

Entre reaches down with one hand to the other's abdomen, and pushes 72 off him. The older man slips back onto his knees in between Entre's spread legs, and frowns at him. Ignoring his confused expression, Entre grabs 72's wrists and pulls him round so that his mentor is lying down on his back, in the dip of the sheets where he himself previously lay. He kneels either side of 72's hips, looks at the other's bewildered face and grins, yet again.

'What are you-'

'Shhh.'

Entre grabs 72's erection, attempting to regain the loss he had caused to it, and strokes him a couple of times. 72 grits his teeth, and has to fight back a moan threatening to rise in his throat as his protégé carefully lowers his body and he pushes inside him again. The return of Entre's warm body around his need is entirely gratifying.

Entre sees the way 72's jaw is clenched and assumes the man is still uncertain about the turn of events, and so bends down to give him a reassuring kiss. However, the change in angle only makes the businessman slip further in, and Entre has to stop and exhale slowly to calm himself.  
Their noses are almost touching; and the cool breath of his lover is slowly drifting across the older man's lips; and although 72 can barely see his partner in the dimly-lit bedroom, he knows that Entre's bright blue eyes will be glassy with adrenaline, and his cheeks flushed with the endorphins bubbling in his bloodstream. Because of their closeness, 72 doesn't have to be able to see properly to feel Entre's smile.

Upon realising his thighs are beginning to shake from the effort of half-kneeling - hovering just above 72's hips - Entre relaxes, and devious thoughts flood his mind as he lowers himself the last few inches. But he's barely down when he jerks back up again, and this time remembers to savour the look on 72's face as he slams himself down again. The up-and-down motion soon becomes a rhythm.

The older businessman's hands clench into fists at the feelings that this change in situation has wrought upon him. He can make out the paleness of Entre's parted lips that keep curling into smirks in between the gasps and low groans, and the younger's eyes are almost glinting as he bounces on top of him. At first, 72 had had thoughts of telling the boy to stop his nonsense, but the businessman liked to think he was open to new ideas and had decided – not solely for _only _the younger's pleasure - to let Entre have his fun.

Besides, this new position is allowing him to plunge deeper and further and _harder_ into his partner, and 72 almost wants to tell Entre to calm himself, to go more slowly; because the boy's riding him like a whore, his delicate hands placed on the older's chest for better leverage. Before he can stop himself, 72's fingers have uncurled themselves from indenting his palms with their fingernails, and have risen to hastily grasp Entre's skinny hips – because, dammit, he needs _something_ to grab onto or else he fears he's going to lose himself in the blissful friction and the self-satisfied expression commandeering his partner's face.

The older of the two, who isn't particularly the most vocal of people during coitus, unwillingly releases a quiet moan that's slightly muffled though his clenched teeth. He would have coughed it off or clapped his hands to his mouth if Entre hadn't taken the noise as encouragement and begun to ride him with even more vigour and hard enough to bruise. But that's not going to be the only pain the entrepreneur will suffer; small ovals are already starting to appear on either side of his hipbones, directly beneath the indents in the smooth, soft flesh that 72's fingertips are creating.

72 needn't be embarrassed anyhow, because Entre's shallow grunts and groans that are flung from the wet, parted lips every time he flings himself back down are filling the steamy air and are enough for both of them. Entre tosses his sweaty hair back from where his fringe is beginning to stick to his forehead, and gives 72 such a lustful, confident, sinful look that the older businessman's eyes avert themselves in a way they've never had to before. Instead, the older's eyes catch the sight of Entre's swollen dick bobbing in time with their rhythm, red and throbbing with desperate need. Exasperation takes over 72 as he presses his head back into the pillow and groans again, unashamedly this time, because he can't take this; he hasn't felt like this in years, and the rapid mix of emotions; of arousal and desire and lust and _love _is too _much_-

His thighs clench as he ejaculates inside the blinding heat encompassing his length, shuddering in time with shaky breaths as 72 tries desperately to relax his racing heartbeat – a difficult feat to achieve when Entre's still moving on top of him, _still _slamming his slim body downwards in urgency, _still _shooting smug looks his way...

Though it's not long before Entre comes too, his fluid shooting to cover a lot of 72's midriff; his inner walls clenching around the softening member still inside of him and making the older businessman tense at the tightness on his over-sensitivity. Entre uses the last few dregs of his energy to lift himself up and off of his mentor, and flops down beside him, grinning as he catches his breath.

'That was fun, huh?'

72's eyes close and his brow furrows, and he can't help but break out into a half-smile of complete and utter disbelief at the boy's playful immaturity. The same boy that was breaking out into sultry, sinful smirks just minutes ago. He takes a deep breath and exhales, trying to keep it steady. 'Indeed,' he mutters wryly, and pulls Entre closer to him, and neither of them say another word for the rest of the night.


End file.
